Predator
by Anasazi Darkmoon
Summary: HIATUS! ANNOUNCEMENT INSIDE! Shane survives his altercation with Rick, but not unchanged. Now dealing with a hunger he cannot explain, the line between man and beast blurs as he relies on those like him to show him the way forward.
1. AWAKENING

**Author's Note:** Well, here I am again after a long hiatus, with a new fic for a new fandom. After two years of resistance against the peer-pressure a Walking Dead-obsessed friend exerted against me, I finally broke down and watched the show. He was very pleased that I started watching it, though was rather upset that my favorite character ended up being Shane Walsh. Anyway, watching the show and reading fanfic gave me the bare bones of an idea for a fic, which only became stronger when I watched Shane die near the end of Season Two, and this is the first chapter of me playing with that idea. There will be lemons in this story from time to time, including this chapter, and while I have written such things before, this will be the first time I've shared one with all and sundry. Also, the story is entirely unbeta'd at the moment, so any mistakes you find are entirely my own doing.**  
**

**Special Thanks:** A big shout-out goes out to Violet Lylybelle for encouraging me to go forward with this and showing me that I'm not crazy for liking Shane.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own The Walking Dead. It belongs to people much wealthier and more creative than myself.

**Pairings:** Shane/OC sexual relationship

**Warnings:** Rated M for graphic content, including blood, gore, death, violence, profane language, and various adult situations. Readers under the age of seventeen are strongly discouraged from continuing further. Also, this is a Shane story written by a Shane fan, so if you don't like Shane, then please turn back and spare yourself the trouble of reading about a character you dislike. Finally, be advised that I am a slow updater, so do not expect the next chapter of this to go up for a while yet.

* * *

_**That is not dead which can eternal lie,  
And with strange aeons even death may die.**_

_H. P. Lovecraft_

* * *

ONE: AWAKENING

'_Dying hurts.'_ Shane realized that as he gasped and choked on his own blood, staring wide-eyed up at the man he once called brother as that same man screamed down at him in words he barely heard.

It was such a stupid thing to think of, considering he had seen enough people go through it; heard enough of their screams as they endured myriad gruesome endings, Otis only being the latest of them. The waxing gibbous moon shone overhead through the thin film of clouds, and he gazed blankly at it, struggling to breathe…struggling to think…struggling to hold onto another few seconds of precious life, even as he felt it ebb away from him.

_*fight…kill…devour…*_

Those words…funny how the voice speaking them was not one he recognized, but still felt like he had been hearing it for a long time, nonetheless. Not the voice of his friend, who now screamed into the night air, railing against the cruel path Fate set before the both of them.

_*hunger…*_

Yes, Shane knew hunger…hell, everyone in the group did. Supermarkets weren't exactly running smoothly now that the zombie apocalypse had come. Not that any of it mattered now, seeing as he was about to die.

_*die…?*_

'_Yeah, die,'_ Shane answered, unsure as to why he was spending his last moments answering a voice that did not exist.

_*SURVIVE…!*_

The world exploded then, becoming white light filled with scorching heat, terrible fury, and absolutely _ravenous_ hunger. It _hurt_, even more than the dying already did. Shane wanted to scream then, but that burning light would not let him, even as it somehow consumed him from the inside out. Images flared before him, his life flashing before his eyes. Desires, regrets, his deepest secrets, all of it poured out before the blazing sun swallowing him whole. Other images, more disturbing ones, flickered in and out among the rest, a dark and frightening counterpoint to his life.

_*rend…*_

Shane let out a roar of animalistic triumph, his hands bloody as he stood over the broken body of Ed Peletier. Strange how the fat bastard looked as though he'd been torn apart by a wild animal rather than beaten to death, though…

_*slaughter…*_

Shane stood on a hilltop overlooking the valley beyond, and as far as he could see, walkers and predatory beasts of all shapes and sizes fell upon one another; ripping, tearing, consuming each other in a ravenous frenzy. The smell of blood rose to meet him on a hot, metallic breeze and the hunger and heat boiling within him surged to greater heights…

_*devour your enemies…*_

Shane quietly padded through the woods, sidearm gripped tightly in both hands as he followed the trail of blood spatters on the fallen leaves. Moving as silently as he could, he came upon a clearing, where he found the source of the blood: a thin man dressed in the blood-soaked and tattered remains of a King County Sherriff's Department uniform, sprawled on his back amongst the leaf-litter, face turned away. Squatting next to the deputy was another man, dark haired and broad-shouldered, stripped naked to the waist, his back to Shane as he tore chunks out of the fallen man and presumably devoured them. One particularly strong tug jolted the deputy's body, turning his face the other way. Shane was horrified to see the glazed blue eyes of Rick Grimes staring back at him, just as he had the day the man in the stolen car shot him.

The other man stopped and stood up then, as Shane raised his gun to fire. When the attacker turned around, however, his blood went cold as he recognized himself beneath all the blood that streaked down his face and chest, partially covering the Lil' Bird tattoo inked over his heart. The other Shane stared back at him with slit-pupil eyes, bared his bloody fangs, and let out a deep, raspy hiss like a leopard before barreling toward him, claws raised to strike. Shane fired several shots, but the bestial clone kept coming…

_*there is no other way to survive…*_

Shane screamed as his bones turned to molten steel, while his nerves and muscles became barbed wire and lightning. He howled his agony to the uncaring world around him until his vocal cords frayed, and he continued to rasp long after his voice abandoned him…

_*you cannot escape your hunger…*_

Hunger yawned wide within him. Hunger for food, hunger for companionship, hunger for a mate; it all roared to life inside Shane and filled in all the previously empty places within him, numbing the pain until the world slowly faded into dim grey, then finally black oblivion.

…

The world was dark, yet somehow bright and clear at the same time. Sights, smells, sounds; all of it whipped around an extremely disoriented Shane in a cacophonous frenzy as he struggled to his feet in the grey dawn light. Walkers streamed past him in a seemingly endless horde, but somehow ignored the living morsel standing in their midst. The smell of wood smoke, burning and rotting flesh, blood, and the oncoming winter chill swirled around and through him, confusing his senses even further. He knew, albeit vaguely, that he should be afraid, that the putrid undead around him were a threat, but that no longer felt important. Shane tilted his head back and took several deep breaths, testing the air and briefly wondering why, when a smell hit that made his stomach growl loudly.

_*hunger…food…*_

He stumbled off in the direction of the smell, his pace drunken and unsteady, but increasing as he drew closer, until finally, he could no longer resist the urge drawing him in and sank under the rising dark wave.

…

When Shane came to again, the world still looked different, as though layers that had obscured his senses all his life had suddenly peeled away, revealing the true vibrancy underneath. He swallowed the last bit of food in his mouth, relishing the slick feeling of it sliding down his throat and the salty-sweet-metallic taste it left behind. He looked down at the source, one of Hershel Greene's cows, and noticed the walkers descending like a flock of vultures, though somehow _still_ ignoring his presence. The old bastard would be pissed that he lost another one, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Shrugging wordlessly, Shane turned and started to head toward the house, figuring he had somehow gotten high, and intended to sleep it off until the world turned normal again. As he passed by the barn, he came to halt, staring at the burning wreckage and vaguely wondered how it happened.

_*threat…!*_

A frisson of fear rolled alongside a cold chill down Shane's spine, and he whipped around to find two living people creeping up on him. He felt a low growl rising up from his chest as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and his lip curled into a snarl as he surveyed the two. One was a young man in his late teens or early twenties; taller than him, but lean with a runner's build; dark, curly hair just this side of kinky, startling blue eyes set in a face that could be described as pretty, and caramel skin hinting at biracial parentage.

_*male…same-kin…rival…?*_

Shane shook off the odd thought that ghosted through his mind just then, and turned his attention to the other intruder, a woman closer to his age than her companion's age. She was shorter and wiry, but her skin sagged a bit in places, suggesting she lost a lot of weight in a short period. Her light brown hair was a bit stringy, the ragged ends brushing over her neck as though she had taken a knife to it at some point. A long white scar stood out on her pale face, stretching from just below her right eye down past the corner of her mouth and under her jaw, and her green eyes glinted cold like gemstones as she watched him.

_*female…same-kin…not-rival…mate…MATE…!*_

Hunger rose within him once more, this time for something other than food as he looked over the woman with obvious desire. The woman stared back at him, and her icy expression slowly changed into a smirk. "Well now," she said, the scar near her mouth slurring her thick Southern drawl a bit. "I was startin' to think you were gonna be…unfriendly."

"We don't know if he is or not, Becca," the strange man retorted in an accent that Shane could not readily identify. The man's eyes narrowed as he watched him, waiting for him to make a move as he edged forward to put the woman behind him, out of reach.

_*RIVAL…!*_

The word roared in Shane's mind as a terrible snarl tore its way out of his throat, directed at the stranger. Strangely enough, the man snarled back at him, even as he drew a Bowie knife and held it with more than a little familiarity. "Bass!" the woman, Becca, barked, snapping both men's attention back to her before the fight could begin. "Put it away, Bass."

Shane laughed internally at the idea of the guy with the knife being named after a fish, but did not take his eyes off the man or his weapon. Bass did not put the blade away, but shot Becca an incredulous glare. "Are you crazy? You just saw him threaten me!"

"Yeah, well he just woke up, too, from the look of it. How the hell ya think you'd react if it was you?"

Bass's gaze shifted between Becca and Shane for several moments. Finally, however, he spat out a curse, put the knife away, and stepped back out of the way. Shane shot Bass a wary, sidelong look, but his attention mostly diverted back to Becca, who stepped a little closer. He watched her avidly, his eyes traveling up and down her body, and he couldn't help but lick his lips a bit. "Becca, are you _sure_ you wanna do this?" Bass called, sounding more than a little disgusted.

Becca rolled her eyes, but did not look away from Shane, instead giving him the same elevator look he gave her. "Bass, like I said, the guy's just woke up. I dunno about you, but the first time I woke up, the first things on my mind were good food an' a good, hard fuckin'. Judgin' by the look of all that blood on him, I'd say he's eaten somethin' pretty recently, and judgin' by the state of his britches, it ain't gonna be much longer before he starts beatin' it out here for the whole world to see. Now, I didn't think you were that way and all, but if you wanna watch him jerk off—not that I blame ya since he's very nice to look at despite all the blood—then more power to ya. If not, then just fuck off somewhere for a while, while I get this taken care of."

"So what, you're just gonna fuck the redneck out here with all the creepers running around?" Bass groaned, running a palm over his face.

"Actually, no, I thought I'd get him inside and clean him up a bit, first," Becca snapped, shooting her companion a dirty look over her shoulder. "Don't tell me you're jealous, Bass."

"What, that he gets to fuck a fat old dyke like you? Not likely."

The harsh words came with a familiar sort of contempt, but no real vitriol, and Becca just grinned. "Kiss my ass, Bass! Go see if there's a sheep or something around here that the creepers didn't get yet. We both know you're more of a dirty goat-fucker, anyway."

Without waiting for a response, she took one of Shane's bloody hands in hers and led him up to the house. He looked around as they walked, faintly wondering where everyone else had gone, but could not bring himself to care much, as it took most of his concentration to keep from putting his hands all over the woman next to him and tackling her to the ground, whether she wanted it or not.

_*MATE…!*_

_ 'Shut the hell up, you broken record! I heard ya the first time!'_ he snarled back at that other 'voice'.

"Hey," Becca prodded, snapping him out of his internal argument. "Ya mind tellin' me where the bathroom is in this place?"

Shane looked around then, slightly bewildered, as he had not noticed they were already inside the house. He blinked at her in confusion, but she did not speak again right away. Instead, Becca reached up and gently put a hand on the side of his face and caressed him, and he nearly purred at the contact. "I'm gonna help you, I promise," she told him seriously, "but we need to get ya cleaned up a bit and get your head clear, all right?"

He nodded and she started to withdraw her hand, but he caught her arm before she could pull it back, nuzzled his cheek against her palm, and then dropped a kiss on her wrist. Becca gasped quietly and trembled a bit, but he could not sense any fear from her, only anticipation. Shane smirked then, barely feeling the drying blood on his face stretching and cracking as he led her through the house to the bathroom, where she finally pulled free and turned the knobs in the shower, sighing with pleasure when the water came on without a problem. "Finally," she chuckled, running a hand under the water with glee. "I didn't think I was ever gonna see runnin' water again."

At that moment, Becca could have spoken Martian, as far as Shane was concerned, as the sight of her bent over the side of the bathtub, her shirt sliding up to give a tantalizing glimpse of skin, sent his heat and hunger swirling to new heights.

_*MATE…!*_

The 'voice' howled once more, and he could not help himself, running his hands over Becca's rear and up her back, slipping them under her shirt, pulling her close as he ground against her backside, letting her feel his growing arousal. Then he groaned as she rubbed herself against him, and he silently cursed the layers of clothing keeping them separated. Before he could attempt to solve that problem, however, she stopped, turned the showerhead on, and straightened before turning around to face him. "C'mon," she whispered as she pushed him back just a bit to make some space. "We don't know how long this water will last, so let's make the most of it."

Shane started to growl a bit with frustration, but stopped as Becca quickly stripped off her shirt, followed quickly by her shoes and pants. Once down to her underwear, however, she stopped and quirked an eyebrow at him, and smiled, "C'mon now, you can't expect me to just give _you_ a show without gettin' somethin' in return, now can ya?"

He tilted his head a bit, but grinned back at her as he shucked off his jacket, followed by the button-down shirt beneath. The blood-soaked fabric let out a sound similar to peeling tape as it pulled loose from his skin, but it was gone soon enough, leaving him to struggle with his boots a bit before finally getting free and chucking them somewhere behind him. As soon as he was free of them, Becca reached for his belt and deftly unbuckled it, and then quickly unbuttoned his pants, even as he reached behind her to unfasten her bra. After several fumbling attempts, the hooks came free, and Shane quickly pulled it off her, just as she freed him from the increasingly frustrating confines of his pants and wrapped her fingers around him. He groaned audibly as she slowly stroked him several times and then stopped, and he quickly pulled her into a crushing embrace and kissed her hard, heedless of the blood still smeared on his face. Becca kissed Shane back just as fervently, her mouth opening to his, allowing his tongue to sweep in against hers. She tasted of sunlight, wind, and forest, with a hint of old blood and something unidentifiable that teased his memory, though he could not tell what it was.

_*mine…mine…mine…*_

The 'voice' repeatedly chanted that one word in the back of Shane's mind, and he could not help but agree with it. He pulled back for a moment, growling a bit as the legs of his pants refused to let him go, but when he shucked them off and looked up again, Becca had stripped out of her panties and stepped into the shower, rivulets of water streaming down her naked form. His eyes raked over her body, taking in the sight of her, and he quickly joined her in the shower, kissing her again with reckless abandon. Shane's hands roved over Becca's body, one sliding from her neck to her breast, his fingers teasing her nipple and causing her to gasp, while the other glided over her shoulder and down her back, squeezing her rear briefly before skating around front and between the two of them, searching blindly between her legs and slipping between her lower lips.

_*mine…mine…mine…*_

Becca gasped and moaned into Shane's mouth as his fingers found what they sought and danced against the little bundle of nerves that made her whole body tremble. He grinned against her lips, and then moved his mouth, dropping sweet little kisses down over her jaw and neck as he continued to stroke her. "Oh god, please," she moaned, her breaths coming as hard, fast pants now.

Shane stopped his kisses then, bringing his head up to look into Becca's lust-darkened eyes and said, "Of course, darlin'."

He then pressed her so that her back was against the wall, lifted her up so that her legs could wrap around his waist, and plunged into her, despite the potential slip hazard their position presented. She let out a loud cry then, and clung to him as he filled her. The sensation of her being so hot and tight around him felt as though it would drive him crazy, and made the voice in the back of his head roar with triumph.

_*mine…mine…MY female…!*_

"Mine," Shane growled, lightly nipping at Becca's lower lip as he gave a couple of experimental thrusts. "Mine!"

"Yours…oh god, don't stop!" she cried, bucking her hips against him in encouragement.

He found his rhythm then, pumping into her harder, encouraged by her moans and enthusiastic squirming. He rained kisses over her face and neck, and then bit down hard on the side of her throat, holding her fast as he grew rougher, practically slamming into her at this point. The move turned out to be Becca's undoing, as she soon climaxed and let out her loudest cry yet, and Shane groaned with pleasure as he felt her inner walls fluttering around him. He kept going, though, releasing his hold on her neck, but kissing and licking at the same spot he'd bitten as he felt his own orgasm building. When his release finally came, it hit him with the force of a blow, literally stealing his breath as every muscle in his body locked up and his mind went blank with ecstasy. Eventually, Shane drifted down from his high, and realized that he still supported a panting and shaking Becca with his own now-wobbly legs, so he withdrew from her with a small grunt and carefully set her down on her feet.

The two of them shared a blissful silence for the next few minutes, taking turns under the water and quickly cleaning up before the water grew too cold to stand. Afterward, Becca stood in front of the mirror, briskly toweling her hair dry as she finally spoke. "Goddamn man, that was amazin'. You do that for all the girls, or am I just lucky?"

_*MINE…!*_

Shane just smiled widely as he stepped up close behind her, dropping a kiss on her neck and letting her feel his swiftly growing erection against her back as his hands snaked around to caress her again. "Just hope you're ready for round two."

…

Several hours later, whatever had grabbed ahold of Shane finally let him go after several more intense sessions that left both him and Becca sore and completely exhausted. They eventually made it to a bed at some point, however, and were still there. Judging by the sound of Becca's even breathing, she had finally fallen asleep, even with his arm coiled possessively around her, and as his own consciousness finally faded, he could not help but tiredly wonder at his situation, how that 'voice' had growled and driven him relentlessly long after he should, theoretically, have passed out. _'What the hell is goin' on?'_


	2. FRIENDSHIP

**Author's Note:**Thank you to everyone who reads/reviews/favorites/subscribes to the story.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own The Walking Dead. It belongs to people much wealthier and more creative than myself.

**Pairings:** Shane/OC sexual relationship, possibly romantic later

**Warnings:** Rated M for graphic content, including blood, gore, death, violence, profane language, and various adult situations. Readers under the age of seventeen are strongly discouraged from continuing further. Also, this is a Shane story written by a Shane fan, so if you don't like Shane, then please turn back and spare yourself the trouble of reading about a character you dislike. Finally, be advised that I am a slow updater, so do not expect the next chapter of this to go up for a while yet.

* * *

TWO: FRIENDSHIP

Shane slept deeply and without dreaming, drifting up toward the world of consciousness with the speed of a glacier. Memory proved to be a mostly elusive thing as he slowly woke to the smell of sex and sweat, but something at the back of his mind still supplied him with information.

_*mating…exhaustion…my female…still here…mine…*_

_'Huh?'_

Blearily, Shane opened his eyes and saw the pale skin of a woman lying next to him, turned on her side and facing away, naked as the day she was born, the same as him. Pausing to think about it, he finally dug up the hazy memories of yesterday and felt a slow, lazy grin stretch across his face. _'Becca…that was her name.'_

He studied her a bit more closely, noticing numerous marks on her back. All of them were faint, maybe a shade or two darker than the rest of her skin and barely noticeable amongst the myriad white scars of various lengths all over the place. Something about those marks teased at Shane's memory as he gently traced the angular shapes with his fingertips. Becca sighed then, shivering lightly in response to his touch, and he could see the goosebumps rippling along her skin. She turned over to face him then, and smiled sleepily. "Mornin' sunshine," she said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before laying back and stretching out across the bed. "Ya feelin' better today?"

Shane propped himself up on his elbow and took in the view, though lust quickly faded to curiosity and some concern as he noticed more of the white scars, along with several larger ones, pinkish-grey in color, scattered across her torso. Gingerly, he touched one of the grey ones, and asked, "What happened here?"

"Don't really matter now. It's in the past," Becca replied with a shrug. The movement made her breasts bounce, catching Shane's attention, and her expression turned to a sultry feline smirk. "Besides, I certainly don't recall you complainin' last night. In fact, the only words I remember comin' outta your mouth the whole time we were goin' at it were 'mine' and 'come for me'."

_*mine…!*_

Lust did not bite this time, but it certainly nipped, and Shane quickly rolled so that he pinned Becca to the bed. She giggled as he nibbled on her neck, but then the laughter turned to a painful gasp as his teeth hit the same spot from the night before. He quickly pulled away and noticed the deep blue-black bruise on the side of her throat, the same place he had bitten her. A guilty flush shot through him, and his gaze darted up to meet hers. "Jesus, I'm sorry…I didn't mean…"

"Hush," Becca told him, leaning up to kiss him. "It'll heal. You were just a lil'…enthusiastic…is all."

Shane let out a small bark of laughter at that, but then froze as the faint sound of shuffling feet and the smell of rot caught his attention.

_*dead-kin…not-threat…threat…?*_

He quickly rolled away from Becca and off the bed, looking around for a weapon in spite of the confusion washing over him. "What?" she asked, sounding rather bewildered herself. "What's got into you all of a sudden?"

Before he could answer, the bedroom door slowly creaked open, and the foul, rotting odor hit the two of them full-bore as one of the undead, a large man in the tattered remnants of overalls and little else, stumbled into the room.

_*threat…not-threat…THREAT…PROTECT…!*_

Shane's heart pounded as panic, anger, and confusion warred within him. Any moment now, that walker would attack, and he was not sure how he'd manage to protect himself, let alone the other defenseless person in the room with him. "Get behind me," he snapped to Becca without taking his eyes off the walker.

Becca scoffed, and then giggled a bit as she crawled out of bed. "You're worried about a creeper? Really?"

She laughed loudly then, and Shane could not help but turn and shoot her an incredulous look. "What, you ain't? You crazy or somethin'?"

"Nope," she said, loudly popping the 'p' sound as the walker shuffled closer, sniffing about as though it could not see them. "Watch this."

Before he could pull her back, Becca walked up to the corpse, turned back to look at Shane, whose jaw dropped as she propped her elbow on the monster's shoulder and leaned on it. "What the fuck…?" he barely managed to gasp as he struggled to register the sight unfolding before him. Not only was the walker not attacking her, it behaved as though she did not exist at all, and almost looked…confused.

Becca stood up straight once more and shrugged. "I'm not really sure myself, but whatever makes us 'us' also makes us invisible to the creepers." She paused, apparently deep in thought, and then spoke again. "Well, not exactly. I mean, if you make a buncha noise or do a lot of movin' about, they'll come sniffin' around, but apparently, we don't register as 'food' to them…which is weird, 'cause I've seen one gnaw on a plastic bag it found stuck to a street sign before."

Shane just stared at her, not saying anything for a moment as the walker—or creeper, as she called it—shuffled back out of the room. Then the shock faded, replaced by confusion and no little anger. "Us? What the hell's that supposed to mean? Better yet, how 'bout you explain what you're doin' here anyway. I sure as hell don't remember you before yesterday."

Becca's grin faded, and her expression turned stony, but before she could respond, the sound of the front door flying open and smacking the wall caught their attention. "Goddamn, are you two _still_ going at it?" a male voice loudly complained. "Hurry the fuck up and finish in there, Becca! The whole house smells like ass now, and that's really saying something since there were creepers in here stinking up the place first."

_*male…same-kin…rival…threat…?*_

Shane felt a low growl build up in his throat, while Becca palmed her face and sighed. "Stop it," she snapped after a moment. "That's just Bass's dumb ass, complainin' like always." She then sighed and added, "Look, I know ya want answers, an' I'm more than willin' to tell ya what I know, but I'd really rather not do it naked, all right? I tell ya what: I'm gonna go find my clothes, and I'll meet ya in the kitchen. We can talk there. You might want somethin' other than what you were wearin' yesterday, though. That stuff was pretty damn bloody."

Without waiting for a response, Becca strode out of the bedroom, shoving the walker to the floor as she passed, and left Shane scratching his head in more than a little confusion. Was she lying? Maybe, but the walker feebly writhing on the floor without the usual homicidal aggression was a rather noticeable tell that something was not right.

…

Becca was right about his clothes, Shane decided a short time later, realizing for the first time how bloody they were as he held the button-down shirt up to the light. Blood thoroughly caked the fabric, quite possibly beyond saving, though his boots and cargo pants appeared relatively okay. For now, though, he'd settle for whatever he could find left among the things the others left behind when they'd gone. When had that happened, anyway? His memory before yesterday was fuzzy, and he could not remember anything happening that would have led so many walkers to the farm.

After finding some new clothes and getting dressed, Shane made his way toward the kitchen, where the smell of blood and cooking meat rolled over him, making his stomach growl. Seated at the dining room table and busily chewing on a bloody piece of meat that looked like it did not even have a nodding acquaintance with fire was the boy from yesterday who Shane recognized as Bass. The younger man watched Shane with a baleful glare, paused long enough to swallow, and then snapped, "The fuck you looking at, Shithead? You want some, then you can either wait for Becca or go catch your own."

_*RIVAL…BEAT HIM…DOMINATE…!*_

Rage rolled over Shane in a wave of heat as a growl rose up in his throat. Bass heard the growl, set the meat down, and stood up, snarling and showing his own bloody teeth. "You got a problem? Don't think I won't shank your sorry ass just because Becca let you fuck her brains out."

Shane's growling grew louder at the threat, but before he could make a move, a ceramic bowl flew between the two men and shattered against the far wall with a loud crash. Both of them turned toward the direction the bowl came from and spotted Becca glowering at them both as though they were being exceptionally stupid. "Really?" she hissed, tossing a coffee mug in one hand as though she might throw it next. "I leave the two of ya alone for two goddamn minutes and you're already wavin' your dicks at each other?"

"C'mon, Becca," Bass groaned, only managing to look partially contrite. "The new guy started it, and—AH, GODDAMN IT, BECCA!"

Becca had thrown the cup at Bass and hit him in the face. "Don't gimme that bullshit, Bass!" she spat, glowering angrily at him. "I heard you in here pickin' a fight with him. I ain't deaf, ya know."

Shane started to laugh, but then Becca rounded on him. "And you!" She pointed an accusatory finger at him, but then stopped and shook her head. "Never mind…just sit down and behave. Food's almost ready, and then we can talk."

Not wanting to risk a coffee cup to the face, Shane sat down as Becca turned and left. Bass swore under his breath, but did the same thing, glaring across the table at the other man as he went back to eating. A few minutes later, Becca returned with two plates, both full of what Shane assumed to be the same sort of meat Bass was eating, though fully cooked. She set one down in front of him, before sitting down and starting on her own food. The three of them ate in relative silence for a few minutes, with only the occasional growls coming from Bass and Shane as they glared at one another, until Becca put her fork down, looked over at Shane, and said, "You told me ya wanted an explanation, right?"

He stopped growling at Bass and turned his attention to her. "Yeah, I did. Where'd you two come from? Better yet, where's the rest of my people?"

"Like we even know—or give a shit—about where your people are," Bass spat, rolling his eyes as though the question was stupid.

"Bass!" Becca hissed, glowering at her companion. "Didn't your mama teach ya not to say anythin' if ya can't say somethin' nice?"

"That frigid bitch didn't teach me a damn thing except how I'd never measure up to the all-white kids in the neighborhood," he grumbled, looking away and turning his attention back to his food. "Joke's on her, though. They're all dead, while I'm still here."

Shane shot a look between the two of them, but finally settled his gaze back on Becca, who looked back at him with a long-suffering expression. "Mister, the honest answer is we don't know where your people are. Bass and I smelled the smoke from that burning barn and came to check it out, but by the time we got here, the only living person we found was you, but there were signs that other people had bugged-out in a hurry."

"Judgin' by all the walkers around, I can see why," he replied, his tone caustic and rough. "But that still don't explain why the damn things ain't beatin' the door down tryin' to get to us."

"That one is gonna be a bit harder to explain," Becca began, only for Shane to snort in derision.

"Use small words, then," he snapped, quickly reaching the end of his patience.

"Because those are the only kind a dumbass redneck like you would understand," Bass muttered, unable to resist adding to the conversation.

_*rival…challenger…TEACH HIM A LESSON…!*_

Shane stood up then, snarling loudly and baring his teeth. Bass hissed back, but looked over at Becca to see if she would put a stop to things. Before she could even begin to say anything, however, Shane leaped over the table and pounced on Bass, landing a solid right hook on the younger man's jaw as the two of them fell. They hit the floor with a heavy thud, and he aimed another punch, but before he could let it fly, Bass surged upward and head-butted him in the mouth, rocking him backward long enough for the boy to throw a punch of his own. Blood filled Shane's mouth from where he had bitten the inside of his cheek, and suddenly the world shifted, turning dark, but bright and clear at the same time as a red haze filled his vision.

_*FIGHT…DEFEAT…DOMINATE…!*_

Somehow, the world slowed down, and Bass appeared as though he moved in molasses, even as he bared his teeth in an attempt to take a bite out of Shane's arm.

_*WIN…MAKE HIM SUBMIT…!*_

Pain was a hazy, distant memory as Bass bit down hard enough to draw blood, but he quickly let go when Shane swung around with his free arm and slammed his fist into the younger man's stomach. Bass lost all his breath in one great, wheezy gasp and fell back to the floor, instinctively curling up into a ball and gasping, trying desperately to get his wind back as Shane rained more blows down on him.

"Hey, mister…"

A feminine voice cut across the anger and Shane whipped around to find Becca standing behind him, a warring mix of emotions on her face. Worry, irritation, and…lust? She wanted him, he knew, though he did not know why or how he knew it.

_*mine…my female…stake my claim…MINE…!*_

Losing interest in Bass, Shane stood up and strode toward Becca, catching her wrist when she tried to back away. "Mine," he growled, pulling her close and tilting her head back to look her in the eye. "You're mine."

Becca opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, he kissed her hard, letting his tongue slip against hers as she moaned into his mouth. Desire flared, and he started to back her against the table, fully intending to lay her out and take her on top of it, when she raised a cupped hand and smacked it over his ear. The impact barely hurt, but the sound was like an explosion, and Shane yelped and leapt backward, startled by the sudden noise. "The hell ya do that for?" he demanded, looking at Becca as though she was crazy.

"I had to get your attention somehow, didn't I?" she retorted, smirking back at him. "As much as I'd love for ya to fuck me silly again, mister, it'd be a bit counterproductive, since you were all hell-bent on me explainin' shit for ya earlier. I'd really hate for ya to have me on the edge and then suddenly start bitchin' at me about what's goin' on, so let me finish talkin' and we'll see where things go from there, okay?"

Before Shane could respond, Bass finally managed to get his wind back, hacking and coughing loudly as he struggled to sit up. "Motherfucker…you didn't have to try to kill me," he groaned in between ragged breaths.

"Don't come cryin' to me about it," Becca spat, looking over at the boy with disgust. "I told your dumb ass to quit poking the bear, but _nooooo_; ya had to keep pushin' it. You're lucky he—"

She paused then, as if realizing something, and looked back at Shane. "Ya know…I only just realized this, but I have no idea what your name is."

Shane blinked in response to the sudden change of subject, then ran a hand over his scalp and laughed a bit. "Ya weren't so worried about that last night," he chuckled.

"Very true," Becca replied, her voice smooth as she edged closer to him. She then leaned forward so that her body pressed against his and her lips brushed his ear as she whispered, "But maybe next time I'd like to be able to scream your name instead of God's."

_*mate…mine…my female…!*_

Shane closed his eyes for a moment as lust sank its talons into him, causing his whole body to tense in anticipation, but he managed to bring himself back under control as Becca backed away, a huge grin stretched across her face. He let out a breath in an explosive sigh, and replied, "Ya like playin' with fire, dontcha?"

"I spent ten years bein' afraid," she answered, her voice suddenly serious. "Now that the world's gone to hell, I have the chance not to be, and I'm gonna take it, even if it means playin' with fire. Your name, please, or would ya rather I make one up for ya?"

"If we're making up names for him, my vote is to call him Shithead," Bass announced, ducking as Becca threw a fork at him.

"Bass, if I let you pick everyone's names, we'd be introducin' ourselves as 'Fat Dyke' and 'Sex-Master B' to everyone we meet. There's no way in hell that's happenin'."

Shane snorted at that, and made his way back to his chair, sitting down and giving Becca an appraising look, as though making a monumental decision. She looked back at him, her demeanor clearly impatient. Finally, he took pity on her and, with a smirk, answered, "Shane. That's my name. Happy now?"

If Becca was happy, she obviously did not look it, as she stared at him as though she'd just seen a ghost. Even Bass, who had gone back to eating, noticed this, and said, "Hey, Dyke! Shithead finally answered your question. Aren't you gonna say anything?"

"Shane…" she trailed off, clearly deep in thought. Then her gaze sharpened, and she focused her attention back on Shane and, with a great deal of uncertainty in her voice, asked, "Shane…Walsh?"

The smirk fell from his face then, replaced by shock. "How the hell did ya guess that?" he demanded.

_*familiar…not-kin…family…pack-mate…*_

The information supplied itself, and Shane could not help but blink and shake his head a bit. "You…I know ya, don't I?" he asked, his voice gentle this time.

"Yeah, ya do," she replied, so softly that he almost did not catch her words as she raised her hand to cover the scar on her face. "Though I coulda swore that you once said you'd never cut off your hair like that. Said somethin' about not wantin' to look like a Klan reject or some shit like that."

Shane studied her carefully, looking at her green eyes and light brown hair, when suddenly, everything clicked. "Becca. You're Becca Stone!" he exclaimed, a genuinely happy smile lighting up his face as he jumped up and pulled her into a fierce hug. "Wait, I remember now," he corrected himself as he let go, "Sarah said you got married, so your last name ain't Stone anymore, is it?"

"No, it is," Becca replied with a fierce shake of her head. "I took it back after my..._husband..._died."

The way she said the word sounded like a curse, but Shane chose not to pry. "How've ya been, Becca? I haven't seen ya since Mama's funeral."

She did not answer his question right away, and quickly averted her gaze, but he still saw the hurt in her eyes before her mask slipped back into place. "Yeah, it was at Miss Bernadette's funeral…" she trailed off softly. Then she brightened up a bit, and added, "I remember Sarah got that tattoo of a dove over her heart as a memorial. She said you got one, too, but yours said Lil' Bird."

Her gaze shifted to his chest, where the tattoo lay hidden under his shirt, then back up to his face, and it was then that Shane noticed something strange about Becca's eyes. Her pupils were oval-shaped, and even as he watched, they contracted into narrow, vertical slits like a cat before expanding again. Unnerved, his gaze darted over to Bass, who had finished eating and was watching the proceedings with a bored and slightly disgusted expression, and he saw that the other man's eyes were the same. When Bass noticed Shane looking back at him, he said nothing, but raised a hand and flipped him off. Shane growled a bit at the gesture, but turned his attention back to Becca and asked, "What's wrong with your eyes?"

Becca raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting the question, but responded, "The same thing that's wrong with yours, I imagine."

Taken aback by her response, Shane looked around for something reflective but found nothing immediately available, so he left the two of them there and headed back up to the bathroom and its mirror. Once there, he peered at his reflection and felt his blood go cold. His eyes were the same color as always, but his pupils had changed. They were the same oval shape as Bass and Becca's pupils, and as he watched, they contracted to the same cat-like slits. Then, without really stopping to think about it, he bared his teeth and let out an explosive breath at the sight of them. Instead of the appearance of normal human teeth, they looked animalistic, predatory: all slightly pointed and the kind of white one only saw in toothpaste commercials. The change was not immediately noticeable unless you actively looked for it, but it was there all the same. _'No wonder I left that big-ass bruise on Becca's neck…it's a miracle I didn't tear her damn throat out!'_

"What the hell is this?" he said to himself, reaching up to touch his reflection with a trembling hand. "What the fuck's goin' on?"


	3. ANIMAL

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who reads/reviews/favorites/subscribes to this story.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own The Walking Dead. It belongs to people much wealthier and more creative than myself.

**Pairings:** Shane/OC sexual relationship, possibly romantic later.

**Warnings:** Rated M for graphic content, including blood, gore, death, violence, profane language, and various adult situations. Readers under the age of seventeen are strongly discouraged from continuing further. Also, this is a Shane story written by a Shane fan, so if you don't like Shane, then please turn back and spare yourself the trouble of reading about a character your dislike. Finally, be advised that I am a slow updater, so do not expect the next chapter of this to go up for a while yet.

* * *

THREE: ANIMAL

"What the hell happened to me?" Shane yelled, storming back into the dining room where Becca and Bass still waited. "What's wrong with my eyes? And my teeth! What the fuck's goin' on?"

Bass growled and opened his mouth to say something, but Becca quickly snapped, "Sebastien Dawson, if you don't shut the fuck up right now, I'm gonna bust ya upside the head with one of these chairs."

The room went silent as both men stared at her as though she'd just breathed fire at them. "Goddamn it, Dyke, when I told you my full name I didn't expect you to give it out to everyone we came across!" Bass complained.

"And I didn't expect _you_ to act like a brayin' jackass every time I needed to explain somethin' to someone," Becca retorted.

Shane looked at Bass and laughed. "Your name's Sebastien? Really? Your mama watched too many soap operas, didn't she?"

"Oh, don't even fucking start, Shithead," the younger man hissed, rounding on Shane. "Just because my name isn't one of the pathetic little inbred hick names that float around down here doesn't make it stupid."

"All right, enough!" Becca snapped, interrupting the fight before it could begin. "Y'all already had one fistfight today, so stop."

Both men glared at each other as though they might ignore her, but eventually, Bass scoffed then looked away. "Fine," he spat. "You explain this shit to the idiot, then. I'm gonna go blow off some steam before someone dies."

With that, he stormed out of the room, intentionally shoving against Shane as he passed. Shane turned and growled at the younger man, a heartbeat away from attacking him again, when Becca reached down and pinched him on the backside. He flinched and whipped back around to pin her with a smoldering glare, but she just looked back at him with a raised eyebrow, seeming entirely unintimidated. "Ya wanted information, right?" she asked, sitting down in the nearest chair before nudging another one toward him. "Take a seat and let's talk."

Shane paused, a bit taken aback at the sudden seriousness in Becca's tone, but finally sat down in a careless sprawl, leaned back, and waited. She studied him thoughtfully for a moment, and then asked, "What do ya know about the creeper sickness?"

He scoffed and gave her a look of pure disbelief. "Ya really askin' me _that_? Shit, Becca, everyone still around knows what it does. Ya get bit or scratched, ya get sick and die, then come back as one of them. That's pretty much it."

"Nope, not it," she countered, shaking her head. "Well, yeah, if ya get bit or scratched like ya said, that does happen, but it ain't the whole story at all." She paused and raised two fingers. "There's two things you should know, the first of which I'm sure some folks out there are already findin' out. The first thing is that everyone—and I do mean _everyone_—is infected with whatever it is that makes creepers. I dunno if it's a virus, or parasite, or what, but if ya die of anythin' that ain't brain trauma, your corpse-y ass is comin' back like a bad penny, whether you were bit or not."

"Bullshit!" Shane exclaimed, looking at Becca as though she was crazy. "That can't be right."

"Right or not, it's true. I've seen it myself, up close and personal. You die, then ya come back, but that ain't all. There's actually two different versions floatin' around. One's the creeper sickness you've already seen. The other one's a bit rarer, and I've been callin' it the hunter version. That's what we have."

"Sounds like somethin' out of a bad sci-fi movie," Shane muttered, still staring at Becca, who was now pacing back and forth in front of him. "So what's it do?"

Becca stopped pacing and looked down at him. "Well, like the creeper sickness, it brings ya back, if ya didn't die of some kind of brain trauma. The thing is; you're still you, but different. Your eyes and teeth change, and that's pretty much it for visible changes. But there's a lot of internal changes, too."

Before Shane could ask her to elaborate, the sound of shrieking undead, followed by a string of profanity coming from Bass drifted in from outside, and Becca rolled her eyes in disgust. "Damn fool has to make a big production outta everythin'," she muttered. "The fuckers ain't even a threat to us, aside from eatin' everythin' in sight, but he acts like he's fightin' a damn horde of orcs or somethin'. Now where was I?"

"You were sayin' somethin' about internal changes," Shane prompted, impatient to get a complete explanation.

"Right, that. Ya see, your eyes and teeth change, but so do your senses. Your low-light vision's a lot better, though you're still blind in total darkness, and your hearin' and sense of smell improve. More importantly, there are changes in your brain that help ya process that new information."

Shane raised an eyebrow at that. "And how the hell would ya know that?"

Becca shrugged. "It's rather obvious. I mean, do ya really think a normal human brain is equipped to figure out all the new sounds and smells and shit it didn't know before?"

He paused to think about that, and then asked, "Almost like a lil' voice in the back of your head?"

Her eyes lit up at that. "Exactly! I imagine if ya were born this way or changed as a lil' kid, ya wouldn't notice it at all, but since ya changed as an adult, your brain had to come up with a way to process the new information."

Shane nodded slowly at that, as the explanation _did_ make sense, but then scoffed a bit as something else occurred to him. "Didn't ya just say someone had to die for this to work? Now, I dunno about you, but I don't feel dead…" He paused, letting his gaze roam over Becca's body, and then continued. "And from what I recall, you were pretty damn lively yesterday, too."

Becca smirked and walked over, straddling Shane's legs so that she could sit on his lap while facing him.

_*mate…?*_

He pushed away the nagging little idea, but still raised an eyebrow, returned her smirk, and then asked, "So what? We gonna sit here and talk about the first thing to come up?"

She snorted at that, but instead of replying, she unbuttoned his shirt and opened it, letting her fingertips dance lightly over his tattoo before coming to rest a couple of inches below it. Curious, Shane looked down to where Becca's fingers rested, and felt a chill run down his spine as he spotted a scar he had never seen before. A bit less than an inch long and an odd pinkish-grey color, it rested in the center of a purplish-yellow bruise that almost appeared as if it slowly faded the longer he looked at it. "The fuck?" he exhaled, moving his gaze up to meet Becca's, silently pleading for some kind of rational explanation.

"Now Shane, I'm no doctor," she began, standing up again, then stepping back and lifting her shirt a bit to show a few of her own pinkish-grey scars, "But I _am_ an expert in knife wounds, and that is most certainly a knife wound. Someone shanked your sexy ass, Deputy."

Shane continued to stare at her, a bit of a goggle-eyed look ruling his expression. "Who? Why?"

Becca shrugged. "It's the end of the world. Whoever did it could've done it for all sorts of reasons. Like I said; any livin' people were gone by the time me and Bass found ya." She paused for a moment, deep in thought. "What's the last thing ya remember before wakin' up?"

The way she said it, Shane knew she didn't mean it as in waking up this morning, so he wracked his brain, trying to dig up the most recent memory he could think of. "Dale…the old bastard was all pissed off 'cause we were finally gonna get rid of that lil' fucker, Randall, so he took a walk. Got himself torn up by a walker, and Daryl put him down before he could turn. That all happened at night, though…but what happened after that?" He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, with the heels of his palms pressed against closed eyes. "Why the hell can't I remember?"

"It's all right," Becca told him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "No one else I've met since this started happenin' remembers theirs, either."

Shane looked up at her then. "Others? Ya mean others like us?"

"Well, yeah. Ya didn't think we're the _only_ three in the entire world, did ya?" She smiled and shook her head. "Nah, we ain't that special. Hell, we actually ran with a couple others for a while, but one just up and vanished one day, and the other…well, let's just say that some people aren't cut out for some of the requirements of this lifestyle."

"Requirements, huh?" Shane scoffed. "Ya mean to tell me there's some kind of rules and regulations for comin' back from the dead now?"

Becca chuckled at the rather disgusted look on his face, then replied, "Well, yeah. Didn't think ya got somethin' for nothin', did ya?" Then she shook her head and looked away. "C'mon, let's go outside for a bit. I'll finish explainin' things; I swear…I just wanna make sure Bass's dumb ass ain't out there causin' any more trouble than usual."

Without waiting for a response, she sauntered out of the room, leaving Shane still sitting in his chair and scratching his head in no little confusion.

…

A few minutes later, Shane made his way outside, stopping on the expansive porch and looking around. The day was cloudy and grey, and underneath the stench of old smoke and rotting flesh, he could smell ice on the wind, meaning autumn had fully settled in and winter would not be too far behind it. Numerous walkers littered the yard, some still shuffling around, while most lay where they fell, apparently victims of Bass's temper tantrum.

_*cold wind…smoke…blood…dead-kin…not threat…where same-kin…rival…female…pack-mates…?*_

The thoughts rolled into Shane's mind as he looked around, his head swimming a bit, as the new sensory impressions threatened to overwhelm him. Following the trail of fallen bodies, he eventually spotted Becca and Bass, and made his way over on increasingly unsteady feet. Bass continued ripping into a walker and paid him no mind, but Becca heard his approach and turned to face him. "You all right?" she asked, eyeing him with a mixed look of wariness and amusement.

_*cold…wind…blood…light…pack-mates…prey…dead-kin…leaves…grass…clouds…death…*_

Shane wanted to answer, but the world _sang_, and his senses swirled with all sorts of connections and feelings he never knew were even possible, let alone how to deal with. Becca and Bass both shone like beacons in his vision, while the few dead still milling about appeared as dull, human-shaped embers against the dark background of the world around him. He wanted to speak, to laugh, to run, to cry; he wanted to fly apart in a thousand different directions at once, and he did not know how to deal with it. He took a step forward or at least tried to, but the world reeled about as it _sang_, and he nearly fell, until Becca caught him, easily slipping her smaller form underneath one arm to lend him support. "Yeah, I should've figured this was gonna happen," she said, mostly to herself as Shane struggled to keep his balance. "Thank god we've got some damn shelter while ya go through this."

_*mmm…female…my female…mine…*_

Becca's scent surrounded him like a warm blanket, and he felt his eyelids grow heavy as he leaned down to try to nuzzle her ear—or, at least, that was the plan. The reality was that Becca staggered a bit under Shane's weight, and the two of them toppled to the ground. "Oh, for fuck's sake!" she groaned, sighing in exasperation as he snuggled her tightly.

"Mmm…" he responded, burying his face in her neck and hair and inhaling deeply.

Becca let out a small, exasperated sigh, but wrapped her arms around Shane and cuddled him back, even as Bass sauntered over, gnawing on what appeared to be a human arm. "So…" he drawled, looking down at the two of them with cold amusement. "You and Shithead having fun?"

She flipped him off in response, as Shane gently licked the side of her face with the tip of his tongue. Bass raised an eyebrow at that, and then laughed. "Right, I forgot about that. Dumb-fuck is high as hell right now, isn't he?"

_*same-kin…pack-kin…rival…?*_

Shane's eyes snapped open then, and he stared up at the younger man with a look of confusion before releasing his hold on Becca and clambering to his feet. "The fuck are you doing?" Bass growled, hefting the dismembered limb in his hand as though he might bludgeon Shane with it as he stumbled closer.

"Bass, if ya hit him with that creeper arm while he's tryin' to figure ya out, I'm gonna jam it up your ass," Becca told him, her voice full of false sweetness as she got to her feet and dusted herself off. "Just go ahead and let him learn who ya are and learn who he is. It ain't like ya gotta fuck him or somethin'."

Bass's blue eyes narrowed, but he stood still as Shane finally reached him and pulled him into a hug.

_*male…not-mate…pack-kin…dark-spice…blood…death…anger…fire…*_

The little 'voice' at the back of Shane's mind took what he sensed and painted a picture of the world and the people around him. Becca smelled of wind and sunlight, whereas Bass smelled of something deeply spicy and crushed leaves in the late night hours. She tasted like _blood_, and _flowers_, and _freedom_, while he was _metal_, and _smoke_, and _aggression_. Those sensations, along with so many others, clicked in Shane's mind, and somehow, he knew that he would always be able to tell who they were, though the reasons why evaded him. Eventually, the feeling of warm fingers gently stroking down the back of his got his attention, and the world shifted back into normal focus as he turned his head and looked back to see Becca grinning while she stroked him like a cat. "See?" she said, not speaking to Shane. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Confused, Shane turned back and saw Bass glowering down at him, a muscle near his left eye twitching in irritation. When Bass noticed Shane was normal again, he roughly shoved him away before belting him across the head with the severed arm. Dazed, Shane staggered back a bit, his gaze darting between the appendage and the bloody grin the younger man now wore. "Did—did you jus' hit me in the head with a fuckin' _walker arm_?"

Still grinning, Bass was completely off-guard when Becca snatched said arm out of his hand and whacked him in the face with it. "GAH! What the fuck, Becca?" Bass roared, looking at her as though she'd sprouted a second head. "You said not to hit him while he was learning my scent and shit. You didn't say anything about after!"

"I was standin' _right there_, ya fucktarded ass-clown!" she snarled back, hitting him again. "He stomped on my fuckin' foot when you shoved him and that shit hurt!"

His rage quickly fading, Shane watched the goings-on with interest as Becca struck Bass a few more times before tossing the arm to the ground and storming away. He followed her, his movements still slow and unsteady as the world threatened to _sing_ again, until she took pity on him and turned to face him. "It's gonna be hard," she told him, watching him with a carefully blank expression.

_*tiny prey in the grass…wind…cold…sky…shelter…food…warmth…pack-kin…mate…?*_

"What is?" he responded, his dark gaze shifting wildly about as he drew closer to Becca.

"What you're currently experiencin', dear," she said, letting him wrap his arms around her once more. "You ain't quite sure what's going on, and the world is suddenly more noisy than you'd expect, given that's it's supposed to've ended and all."

_*safety…warmth…my female…*_

"It…it's like the world's singin', but I dunno the words to go with it." Shane squeezed his eyes shut and trembled, but didn't release his hold on Becca. "I feel like one of them tweakers when they've gone crazy. The only things makin' sense are you an' Bass, an' I can't figure it out."

"That's 'cause there aren't any words, Shane," she explained, letting her fingers stroke his spine in a soothing motion. "It's all animal. It's the parts of ya that don't need words, don't have eyes. Those parts need information that they can handle, and this is how they get it."

Sensations went by in a dark-bright blur, and he shuddered at the force of them. A small whimper escaped his throat as he clung to her as though she was the only thing anchoring him to reality. Bass approached the two of them, but stopped at a safe distance and gave them a curious look. "All right, Becca, in all seriousness: is he gonna be all right? I don't remember whimpering like a little kid the first time this shit happened."

Becca gave the younger man a baleful glare. "That's 'cause you're a fuckin' sociopath, and probably ate or humped everythin' ya came across until ya snapped out of it."

_*pack-mate…rival…threat…?*_

The world finally stopped _singing_ again, so Shane released his death-grip on Becca, and turned to glower at Bass. "The fuck ya want? Why the hell are ya still carryin' that walker arm? Hell, why do ya even _have_ a walker arm?"

"Um…because I wanted a snack?"

The answer was innocent enough, though Shane found it completely bizarre, and he looked back at Becca for an explanation. "Whatever this shit is that changed us turned us mostly carnivorous," she said with a long-suffering sigh. "We can still eat normal food, but it doesn't really do anythin' for us, unless it's somethin' with some fat or protein to it. Dumbass over there…well, he tends to eat anythin' that moves, including creepers."

"And he hasn't died from it?" Shane scoffed. "Figured that shit'd be poisonous or somethin'"

"Well, the local scavengers can still eat the damn things, so they aren't toxic, but I fully admit they taste like ass," Becca told him, before heading back toward the house.

He trotted after her, his curiosity roused. "You've eaten a walker? Why?"

They made it to the porch before she stopped and answered him. "If ya go too long without eatin', anythin' starts to look good. Creepers are nasty, but they'll save ya from starvin'." She shook her head. "I'd much rather go hunt somethin' down than have to snack on one of those."

"All right…I know we have food. Hell, we just ate not too long ago…so why's Bass eatin' a walker arm?"

"Because he's batshit crazy, and I learned that it does no good to bitch at him about it. I figure as long as he's not eatin' live people, it'll be all right." Becca rolled her eyes in disgust as the boy joined them, and snapped, "Ya ain't bringin' that nasty thing in the house!"

"But I'm not done with it yet!" Bass protested, cradling the arm a bit possessively.

"I don't give a flyin' fuck! Finish it or throw it away; ya ain't bringin' it inside!"

"Fine…" With a huff, Bass turned and chucked the well-gnawed arm out in the yard, then turned back to Becca. "All right, so what's next?"

Becca looked at Shane, then back to Bass. "I figure that we can hole up here for a while, at least until Shane finishes adjusting to the changes. After that? I dunno. We'll figure it out as we go."


	4. VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT

**VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT**

It is with a heavy heart and deepest regret that I must announce that my grandmother passed away on December 6, 2016. She and I had been very close ever since I was born, and now that she's gone, I feel like there is a gaping wound where her presence used to be. I had been her live-in aide, as well, so the apartment and everything were in her name, so I don't know that I'll have a home in the next few weeks, let alone internet access.

Because of this, all stories I've been working on are now on hold until I can at least put my life back together. I'm so very sorry that it turned out this way, and I do intend on finishing them at some point, but right now, it's all I can do to keep from screaming, let alone try to write anything. I know this is not what you want to hear, but it's what has to happen until I can bring some sense of normalcy back into my life.

I thank you all for bearing with me in these dark times, and appreciate all the love and support I've received over the years.

Love Always,

Anasazi Darkmoon


End file.
